


prince zuko protection program

by kouje



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - High School, Hockey, Multi, hell its only a little bit of a hs au too, hey my name is sokka i have a hockey game tomorrooooow, its only a little bit of a college au tho, special appearance by express vpn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:28:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27170413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kouje/pseuds/kouje
Summary: have yall seen princess protection program? i did one single time 10 years ago.-After an assassination attempt during his coronation rehearsal, Prince Zuko is taken to a safehouse while the White Lotus organization gets Ozai’s Loyalists under control. Zuko expects a tolerable if boring isolation, but gets a loud group of friends, a high school education, and a hot roommate instead.
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 26
Kudos: 366





	prince zuko protection program

**Author's Note:**

> some notes: i put in very little thought to this whole thing. i had one (1) thought and rolled with it. sokka is from a mix of maine, the pacific northwest, and the south pole and zuko is from the fire nation and these places are somehow within a 6 hour drive of each other. bending exists, cars exist, high school exists, naruto exists, and most importantly hockey exists. what doesnt exist is me writing more than a paragraph of conflict.
> 
> zuko was banished but was not tasked with finding the avatar as aang is just a high school student, but zuko was still somehow on a ship for three years. sokka and zuko are both 17. toph is a foreign exchange student i guess? there are somehow zero mentions of azula. i thought dadkoda was going to play as big a role here as he does in my mind but apparently i played myself. anyway heres the fic

Zuko scowled as he stared out of the tinted windows of the SUV he had been manhandled into a few hours ago. The manhandling, thankfully, was done mostly by his uncle and members of the White Lotus rather than by those loyal to his forcefully abdicated father, but it was still aggravating. He could have gotten in the car by himself. Although he could admit being just a little frightened and a little frozen after this most recent assassination attempt. This one was the Loyalists’ most near-successful, and the arrow meant for his throat had been so close as to make a small slice in his collar as it shot past.

His silken coronation robes had been creased in all the excitement and Zuko very much believed that the wrinkles would never come out. After all the care he had taken getting dressed for the rehearsal, Zuko found that this - more than the trouble of ceremonies and the drama of assholes trying to keep those ceremonies from happening - was the most annoying part of this whole thing. He liked those robes. He worked hard for them. He looked good in them. He couldn’t help scowling more, crossing his arms and slumping back against the seat.

After hours of non-stop driving to the safe haven the White Lotus had organized, they finally pulled into a driveway of a house that was… very much not like the palace that he was accustomed to. The two-story-plus-an-attic home was lined with wood weathered from the salt water of the nearby ocean, beat-up bicycles leaned against the wall, and pretty windchimes hung from the well-loved porch. Zuko hated windchimes. They chimed too much.

The driver, someone Zuko vaguely recognized from general White Lotusing around, motioned with a raised hand for him to remain in the car when Zuko went to open the door. With a frustrated huff, Zuka slumped against the seat again and watched with barely disguised wariness as a man stepped out of the house. He was a classic tall, dark, and handsome, buff with naturally deep tan, with the obvious air of a dad. Zuko scowled deeper even though it pulled uncomfortably at his scar. Dads were off-limits even for passive crushes, no matter how hot. Dads sucked. He slumped down more.

\--

Chief Hakoda - definitely hot, definitely a dad - turned out to be suspiciously nice. He was not-so-suspiciously qualified to protect a threatened Crown Prince, not only because of his clear strength and unspoken stories behind scarred knuckles, but also his experience acting as the head of a specialized security detail of an unspecified government agency. Zuko listened as Hakoda and the White Lotus agent discussed the plan to conceal his identity and location and thus keep him from the Loyalists’ possession. Everything was standard as far as plans to keep royalty from being assassinated at their father’s command went - using an alias in public, claiming he was a very distant, very pale relative if anyone asked, and not drawing attention to his sudden presence in a nondescript coastal town.

“My children know the basics of your situation,” Hakoda said, turning his full attention to Zuko. “My son is close to your age, he should be able to help you adjust.”

“I won’t require much help, sir. I plan to keep to myself.” Zuko said. He had formulated his plan about an hour into the drive, after the adrenaline from being nearly murdered just outside of his own home (again) had worn off. The plan was to ride this whole thing out, just let the White Lotus figure it out and stamp the Loyalists down as much as they could until his coronation could be carried out. Hiding away in a safe house was easy enough, he figured it probably had weird romance novels tucked away somewhere that would keep him company. Being in a safe house with a ‘family’ or whatever was a minor setback, but one that he could deal with.

Hakoda shrugged. “Either way, going to a new high school can be tough.”

Zuko… stared. “High school? I’ve--I’m done with school. I was tutored my whole life. Even--” during his banishment, he doesn’t say. That was done by Uncle, who was not necessarily qualified to be an actual teacher. Zuko had passed the exams he needed to show some sort of sufficient education and that’s all he needed.

“Part of not standing out is playing the part, Prince Zuko. And Prince or not, you’re still a teenager, one that looks young enough to be in school. What if someone saw you, reported you for truancy? That would be one of the stupidest ways to get caught and while it isn’t likely, it isn’t a chance that I’m willing to take.”

Zuko kept staring. “High school.”

Hakoda smiled. “You’ll be in my son’s classes. It’ll be fine. Sokka will help you out.”

Zuko kept staring for just a moment more before closing his eyes, breathing deep and sighing deeper. “High school,” he said miserably.

When he opened his eyes, Hakoda held out a hand over the table, giving a firm shake once Zuko reached out with his own after a moment of confused hesitation. Physical touch, formal or not, was not a common occurrence for a prince, even one with years of banishment under his sash.

“Welcome to the family, Zuko.”

\--

The White Lotus agent left after bringing Zuko’s bag in, one that had been hastily packed by a palace servant under his mother’s command as he was guided (shoved) through the chaos. Standing in the hallway with it at his feet, Zuko looked around at the mismatched-framed photos on the wall, most of Hakoda, a beautiful woman, and two children in various stages of childhood and teenship. He felt stupid for it, but  _ welcome to the family  _ sat in his stomach in a weird way - discomfort, maybe, but envy? More likely.

Hakoda came in from waving the car off and clapped Zuko heartily on the shoulder, making him stumble. “Come on, kid. I’ll show you where to put your stuff.”

Zuko nodded curtly, unscarred cheek a little red from both the touch and being knocked off balance. He hoped Hakoda didn’t notice (he did). Hakoda led him up to the attic, a cozy room that took up the whole floor with a poster-plastered vaulted ceiling. It was… messy, with clothes on the floor and futon and the bottom queen-size mattress of the bunk bed. Hockey sticks leaned against the wall, with broken halves stored lovingly in a sturdy woven basket, there were frisbees scattered around (one of which had clearly been used as a plate for nachos), and the bookshelf had been filled with various books but it seemed that the majority of the overflow ended up in random stacks around the room. The mess  _ had  _ been pushed away to form a clear path to the bunk bed’s ladder, and Zuko got the unfortunate impression that this hideaway was not about to be the quiet solitude he had assumed it would be.

Behind him, Hakoda sighed. “I told Sokka to clean up. Sorry about--this.” He gestured to the room at large and looked mildly exasperated. “I’ll make him actually pick up properly when he gets home, I’m not trying to make you live in a pigeon-pigsty while you’re here.”

Zuko shook his head a little, setting his bag down. “It’s fine.”

Hot dad seemed to understand that Zuko was not a man of many words and clapped his shoulder again, making him wince but thankfully not stumble. “I’ll leave you to get settled. Dinner’s at seven.”

Zuko watched him close the door behind him and waited til he couldn’t hear footsteps going down the stairs before he looked at the bunk bed with a sigh. He was not the most dignified prince in the world but he did feel he was dignified enough to not have to climb a ladder to be able to go to bed.

_ Whatever _ , he thought.  _ Beggars, choosers. _

He climbed up, flopping onto his back with his legs still dangling over the ladder. He thought about how this was a temporary (evil) necessity and wondered if he should be more offended by the teen-boy-smell of his living conditions, and didn’t even notice as he drifted to sleep.

\--

After an exhausting day of ceremonial stress, near-assassination, a long silent drive, and being welcomed to the family by a hot dad that seemed very much unlike his own, Zuko managed to sleep through the din of a car pulling into the driveway and pulling back out after a chorus of enthusiastic bye-see-you-tomorrows, the loud hi-dad-we’re-homes, the vague hum of conversation two floors down, and the excited pounding of someone running upstairs. 

He did  _ not  _ sleep through the door being thrown open and slamming against the wall, and shot up from a dead sleep just in time to see a-hot-boy-and-probably-Sokka yell “Hey!” with a bright smile. Zuko hit his head hard on the slanted ceiling, the loud thump resounding around the room. Probably-Sokka’s grin faded, as he stared at Zuko who was staring at him.

Zuko touched his sore head, where a painful egg was already forming, tears sprang unbidden to his eyes. “ _ Ow _ ,” he said weakly.

Probably-Sokka sprang into action, babbling as he crossed to room to help Zuko down the ladder, touching his waist in a way that made Zuko tense then shiver. “Fuck, dude, I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were sleeping. I’ve done that before, it hurts like hell. Want some ice for it? I’ll get you some--” He let Zuko go once he was firmly on the floor, scrambling to get a wrinkled but hopefully clean t-shirt from a laundry basket and kneeling by the futon to get ice from a mini-fridge, wrapping it in the shirt and handing it off to Zuko apologetically.

Zuko’s eyes were still watery and he felt disoriented - first this morning and now whatever  _ this  _ was? He pressed the makeshift ice pack against the bump with a wince and looked at Sokka with barely-masked confusion. “Why do you have--?” He pointed at the fridge and Probably-Sokka glanced back at it.

“Oh, that? I’m really into ginger ale right now. Want some?”

Zuko felt like he wasn’t processing things correctly and hoped he hadn’t incurred brain damage from hitting his head on a ceiling after escaping death the same day. He shook his head with another wince.

“Sorry again, man,” Probably-Sokka winced back in sympathy, standing and holding his hand out. “Sokka.”

Zuko grabbed it with his own with less hesitation than he had with Hakoda. Two in a day. Practice makes perfect. “Zuko.”

Definitely-Sokka laughed and squeezed before letting go. Zuko took a second to take in Sokka’s whole deal - he looked like his father in some very good ways, tall-tan-and-handsome, with shoulder-length hair tied in a wolftail, lanky but with some nice muscles, grin all toothy and confident and immediately making Zuko want to make him smile again. “Dad said we should call you Lee but I think we can leave that at school.”

The warm-cool, comfortable-uncomfortable, butterfly-bees that had started flutter-stinging in his stomach turned much more decidedly negative.  _ School.  _ He scowled and knew he looked like he was glowering (because he was), but for some reason Sokka only grinned wider. He had really nice teeth.

\--

_ Is this a meet-cute?  _ Sokka thought. He had read too many icha icha novels.

\--

_ Is this a meet-cute?  _ Zuko thought. He had read too many icha icha novels.

\--

Sokka graciously made space on floor-level surfaces so Zuko didn’t have to climb back up the ladder for somewhere to sit. Scooping up armfuls of clothes (and books and sports equipment), he dumped them in one corner, proudly clapping his hands together after he was done and declaring it the deal-with-later-pile. Zuko sat timidly on the edge of the futon as Sokka spun in his desk chair in front of a clunky but professionalish gaming setup because of course he was a Twitch streamer.

“So someone almost killed you today, huh?” Sokka used Zuko as a spot to focus on as he spun in an effort to not get dizzy, although Zuko got dizzy just watching him. “What do you do for fun? Other than not that?”

“Other than--not dying.” Zuko said without inflection. Sokka nodded and stilled himself so he could face him instead of going in circles. “Uh. I’ve been brushing up on Fire Nation laws and regulations. I don’t know much about agriculture so I’ve been, uh. I’ve been studying that.”

Sokka rolled his eyes. “Dude, I’m a nerd and even I know that doesn’t count as fun.”

“It’s--what I’ve been doing, though. I don’t have time for fun.” He felt a twinge of annoyance. If Sokka knew who he was, he should know that Zuko’s time was no longer his own.

“Well, man, hate to break it to you but I don’t think you’re gonna be able to study Fire Nation laws and stuff here. We don’t have the books for it and if the guys after you are smart enough they’ll be tracking online activity anywhere they think you might be. We have Express VPN but I don’t think it can cover our asses that much. We’re gonna have to find you some real fun while you’re here.”

\--

After about thirty minutes of brainstorming on Sokka’s part and reluctant compliance on Zuko’s, Sokka decided to start a pen-and-paper list of things Zuko  _ hadn’t  _ tried. It was a long list. Zuko really hoped he wouldn’t actually make him learn how to ride a bike.

\--

When Hakoda called them down for dinner, Zuko followed Sokka down the stairs, pushing down the wariness he felt about not getting properly dressed or doing anything more formal than washing their hands at the kitchen sink.

Hakoda’s daughter Katara was significantly less enthusiastic about Zuko’s intrusion than her brother and made her distaste obvious from the start with sharp comments, grimaces, and suspicious stares. He had to say  _ something _ , he knew it was weird to keep glancing at her as she glared at him from across the table. No matter how cool and collected he (unsuccessfully) pretended to be, Zuko really didn’t want to be a sore spot in someone’s home.

“I like your necklace,” he blurted, interrupting Sokka’s animated commentary on sea prune stew.

Sokka looked at him, Hakoda looked at Katara, Katara looked at Zuko with a carefully blank expression.

“Thanks.” She said after a tense moment, squinting at him as she made the decision. “It was my mother’s.”

After dinner and their quiet conversations about mothers lost and found, Zuko felt more comfortable in the warm house of three strangers than he ever had in the cold palace of his childhood that had become the slightly-less-cold palace that would be his endless future.

\--

High school fucking sucked. People stared at him because he was new, then they  _ stared  _ at him because half his face was a mottled scar. Zuko felt almost sick from being on edge the entire day. His arms were sore from lugging around new textbooks that were then stuffed in Katara’s old backpack. His head hurt because no one in the entire building knew how to be  _ quiet  _ for a single minute. His stomach grumbled because he refused to eat what Sokka proudly declared  _ mystery meat _ . The only good thing was meeting Sokka and Katara’s friends who seemed… really nice in a way he absolutely wasn’t used to. Other than that, it was eight entire hours of constant noise and motion and newness and  _ people  _ and Zuko felt like he could pass out. Zuko  _ wanted  _ to pass out but Sokka was talking to him and if he passed out he couldn’t hear his really nice voice.

“--how’s that sound? You down?”

Zuko blinked at him slowly. “I--uh.”

Sokka just grinned and laughed, touching his arm. “Suki usually drives us all home after practice. Dad can’t pick us up and I don’t want to make you ride the bus. Are you down to wait? The gang usually hangs out in the stands while we do our thing.”

Even though he only vaguely knew what Sokka was talking about, he nodded and was awarded with a gentle squeeze of his bicep. He decided to agree to a lot more things in the future.

It turned out that he had agreed to sit on hard bleachers in a room full of  _ ice _ , shivering beside Aang, Katara, and Toph watching Sokka and Suki’s hockey team practice for two hours. Somehow, he couldn’t bring himself to mind, no matter how objectively uncomfortable he was. He felt… nice, half-included in the conversations going on around him, and there was something pleasant in the way that Aang chattered on about anything and everything, and the way Katara casually made a cat’s cradle with water bent from a heavily-decorated Hydro Flask, and the way Toph yelled encouraging insults about skating speed and shot accuracy.

Also, Zuko was in a very good position to watch Sokka move across the ice effortlessly, with grace he didn’t seem to possess on land. With the C-for-Captain on his chest (and Suki’s, but Zuko’s eyes were elsewhere), it was obvious that Sokka had earned it through the way he guided the team through a structured practice, words and actions screaming leadership (and body screaming powerful smart stupid man hot and strong). 

Zuko didn’t know shit about hockey but he wrote the book on crushing hard and falling fast.

\--

Zuko was met with the incredible misfortune of coming into Hakoda’s protection on a Monday and thus starting  _ high school  _ on a Tuesday, so he had to go through nearly a whole week of constant noises, stares, and honest-to-Agni homework. He was relieved to find out that his tutoring (both formal and informal) was relatively comprehensive. He didn’t have to study so much as remember what was being taught, and nothing really made him want to scream into the ether - except for math.

He didn’t  _ quite  _ scream into the ether but he did let out a frustrated, animalistic growl while he and Sokka were working on homework in their shared room, shoving the textbook to the other side of the futon and giving it a surly glare. Sokka raised his eyebrows and looked over at him. Zuko glanced over when he felt eyes on him and scowled more. “I don’t like math.”

Sokka grinned. “Is that all? I love it. Come here, I’ll help.”

And that’s how Zuko ended up laying next to Sokka on his bed, both on their stomachs and propped up by their elbows, sides pressed together in a way that made Zuko feel like he had become a master of heat regulation on a freezing cold day but only down his right side. Even with his thoughts racing down a dangerous path that might end up with Zuko doodling S+Z on the margins of his notes tomorrow, he managed to understand the problem sets when Sokka explained them, and felt an absolute thrill when Sokka beamed at him after getting them right.

Even though he understood the next few without help, he didn’t move. He couldn’t make himself. Just when he started to think that Sokka might think it’s weird or inappropriate or suspicious and he needed to actually get away right then that moment, Sokka adjusted himself and crossed one of his ankles over Zuko’s. Zuko stilled and saw Sokka smirk at his book just a little in his periphery. Zuko adjusted himself in retaliation, leaving their ankles crossed and pressing their forearms together. He glanced at Sokka’s lips for just a quick second, wanting to see if he misstepped - but Sokka’s smirk just turned into an actual dopey grin, tan cheeks going pink. He  _ knew  _ Zuko was looking at him and he didn’t care. Zuko couldn’t bring himself to look away for another couple seconds, but when he did, it was to stare blankly at the page in front of him, his own cheek red, feeling a happy thrill through his entire body.

\--

The weekend arrived and Zuko greeted it with exhaustion, glaring at Sokka when he poked him awake from his well-deserved lie-in at nine in the morning. “No.”

Sokka pouted. “You promised!”

“I didn’t promise what  _ time _ .”

“That was your mistake.” He was way too fucking awake for Zuko’s tastes but he was also way too cute. He hadn’t taken his hair down before he fell asleep and was now paying for it with a half-down half-up mess falling into his face, his stupid blue eyes framed by soft hair Zuko wanted to touch. He scowled and flicked Sokka’s forehead, deciding that touching his hair, no matter how self-indulgent it would be, was too nice for the occasion. 

Infuriatingly, Sokka only grinned and hopped away from the bed. “Mall time.”

_ ‘Zuko’s never been to the mall???’  _ was pretty high on Sokka’s list of Things Zuko Hasn’t Done, and had the benefit of being easy to fix. Suki showed up an hour later with Aang and Toph in tow, as well as coffee and or tea for all of them from her mom’s Kyoshi Cafe, which Zuko and Katara were especially grateful for. Katara had been relieved to find an ally against Sokka’s whole morning person or whatever thing and leaned forward from Sokka’s other side to share a tired look with him as Sokka and Aang chatted loudly.

The mall was big and overwhelming and filled with stupid things like irreverant Buddha statues, polyester shirts, and speedwalking old people in visors and New Balances. But it was  _ also  _ filled with things Zuko couldn’t help but indulge in like a cheap jacket with a cool dragon embroidery, sweet-smelling lotion that left his hands just a little bit glittery, and a huge pretzel to ‘share’ with Sokka, even though Sokka was selfishly eating the whole thing as he watched Zuko try on whatever was thrown at him.

“These are uncomfortable.” Zuko complained, tugging at the tight jeans Sokka conned him into trying on after a shocking confession that he had never worn them before. He felt a self-conscious twinge as he glanced at Sokka’s unreadable expression, blue eyes flicking over his legs and lingering on his thighs.

Sokka swallowed, not  _ quite  _ meeting his eyes. “They, uh. They look good. On you.”

Zuko bought the jeans.

Zuko also bought a lot of food court “Asian” food - he whispered half-confused and half-infuriated about the inappropriate generalization of the whole cuisine to Sokka even as he bought several plates from various places to share with the group. Sokka just grinned as he listened to him, and told him he’d add buffets to the list.

Zuko also…  _ also  _ …  _ somehow  _ … got an ear piercing, a small mid-helix hoop that he could hide easily if he wanted to. He’d always been tempted to get one but could never make himself; between needles and propriety and nerves and whatever else, he always managed to talk himself out of it. But when Zuko mentioned it offhand and Toph immediately said she’d get one if he did, and then Suki wanted in on it, and then  _ Katara _ , and finally Sokka--

Sokka had given him a weird look that was too far too soft and said “It’d be cool for us to match, wouldn’t it?” like it would be just him and Zuko, just S+Z, just something private and special between them--well. If Zuko ever needed a push, there it was.

The Claire’s employee was not impressed by the crowd of teenagers all vying for their turn but Zuko couldn’t bring himself to feel too bad about it. Aang laughed as each of them sat through it, remaining unpierced but still an enthusiastic participant in the whole ordeal. He also made the ultimate discovery after they left the store, pointing with a loud gasp at a photobooth tucked against the wall. All six of them managed to squeeze in, but just barely - Aang ended up half on top of Katara on the far side, Suki and Toph squished side by side in the middle, and Sokka pulled Zuko onto his lap as soon as he got past the curtain, strong arms wrapping around his waist and chin resting on his shoulder as he grinned at the camera.

Each picture was an uncoordinated mix of silly faces and bright smiles, but Sokka’s mischievous grin and Zuko’s surprised delight were present in each one. They ended up with a four-photo strip each (including Toph, who tended to jab things on the walls with tacks if she thought they probably looked cool and or would upset her parents). Zuko tucked his copy carefully away with the certain knowledge that it was already a treasure.

\--

Zuko spent the next month and a half simultaneously feeling like he had always been a part of their group and like he would never get used to it. How was it possible that he hadn’t spent every Tuesday and Thursday afternoon at Sokka and Suki’s hockey game, every every Saturday at Aang’s guardian Gyatso’s house trying to teach Aang’s emotional support “bison” (very large, floofy dog) to do tricks, every Sunday around Hakoda’s table where he felt welcomed and warm and  _ happy _ .

At the same time, how could he ever feel like it was anything but wholly new, no matter how many movie nights he spent with Toph’s legs in his lap, or how many hours he spent running katas (fire  _ and  _ water) with Katara, or how many times Suki would casually kiss his scarred cheek goodbye without thinking twice, or how many heart-to-hearts he had with Aang about how long it took for them to finally feel like they had somewhere to call home (and how they worried it would always, always be a work in progress). More than all of that, how could he ever feel like Sokka looking at him like he was worth something was anything but the most wonderful, unique experience he had ever known.

And yet, it seemed like Sokka never stopped looking at him. Not that Zuko ever stopped looking right back.

\--

It had been a  _ really long day _ . Zuko had to take a history test and felt far too stressed for a grade that infuriatingly didn’t matter at all, then Aang had spilled a carton of orange juice on his pants at lunch and it was almost more annoying how the kid refused to stop apologizing, then Sokka had to serve detention because the science teacher that had it out for him claimed putting a hat on the plastic skeleton hanging in the room was somehow  _ desecration of a corpse  _ and Zuko was unable to do anything but stew in his thoughts and feelings and whatever until he came home. While he knew he probably could have hung out with one of their friends (which--  _ their friends _ , he had  _ friends _ ) but Zuko felt at least a little entitled to let himself be miserable for an afternoon if he wanted to.

He regretted his self-permitted misery that night. Bad days always led to bad nights and bad nights always led to bad sleep. After what felt like hours of endless tossing and turning and trying to keep the bed from creaking so Sokka wouldn’t suffer along with him, he fell into a barely-restful sleep. 

Bad sleep, as it was wont to do, led to bad dreams. Zuko woke from a nightmare ( _ the  _ nightmare, really, it was always the same one) with a strangled gasp, knuckles white as he gripped the blankets. He had gotten too used to his plush palace bed, and the top bunk suddenly felt too small and too hard and too much like the bed on the  _ Wani  _ where he writhed in agony as the burn on his face tried desperately to stitch back together. He knew he would go crazy if he stayed there, never mind going back to sleep.

Zuko climbed down the ladder with shaky legs (he tried to not think of the sea legs his crew sneered about behind his back or the way he threw up as soon as he was alone the first time he felt salt water bite at the still-open wound) and collapsed on the futon, ignoring his wet cheeks and curling tightly on his side facing the room, hoping it would make him feel less closed in.

He froze, startled, when he caught Sokka’s blue eyes, shining in the dark and heavy with sleep.

“I got that off the street,” Sokka mumbled.

Zuko stared and didn’t bother trying to cover up the way his voice shook. “What?”

“The futon. So--you probably don’t wanna sleep on it.” When Zuko kept staring, trying to figure out if he wanted him to sleep on the floor or go downstairs or  _ what _ , Sokka rolled his eyes and patted the bed beside him. “Come on.”

His anxious brain yelled  _ fuck _ , his stupid brain yelled  _ fuck? _ , his gay brain yelled  _ FUCK. _ , and his whole brain pushed him up from the couch and crawled him under the covers and tucked him up against Sokka’s side. Sokka put his arm around him to tuck him even closer, resting his chin on top of Zuko’s head.

“Nightmares suck.” Sokka whispered, spreading a broad hand over the small of Zuko’s back. “But they’re better with company.”

Zuko was almost mad that he fell asleep just a few minutes later, wanting to fully experience the warmth and care and butterfly-bees for as long as possible. But it was too much and too good to stay awake and he drifted quickly into the best rest of his life.

Sokka had the audacity to act like nothing had happened the next morning, passing the salt at the breakfast table without brushing Zuko’s hand and putting his arm over Zuko’s shoulders the same way they always did when they watched the stupid Saturday morning cartoons Sokka loved so much. But there was something in Sokka’s eyes, gentle and knowing in a way that somehow didn’t make Zuko want to die (in a bad way. He could admit there was a little  _ good  _ wanting to die going on).

There was definitely something in the way he threw his covers back before Zuko even had a chance to climb up to his own bed that night, and the next, and the next, and the next. They never  _ did  _ anything, but Zuko was willing to bet that  _ doing  _ things could easily be matched cuddling up to this warm wolf of a man. Well. Maybe.

\--

After that night and the next next next, Zuko awoke to the ping of Sokka’s phone, blinking blearily at the bright light. He was about to turn around, to curl tight around Sokka’s side because he knew Sokka slept through any amount of renewed cuddling when his mother’s name caught his eye. The Twitter notification read “BREAKING NEWS: Fire Lord Regent Ursa betrothed to General Zhao.” Zuko’s heart leapt to his throat, stomach turning as he read and reread the words.

If it was a ploy to drag Zuko out of hiding, it worked. Zuko  _ knew  _ his mother would never agree to marry Zhao and his mind latched on to any number of horrible things Zhao might have forced Ursa into, going from the practical  _ what did he tell her he’d do if she refused?  _ to the more fantastical  _ how do I find out which tower he locked her into? _

He didn’t need to concentrate on what he was doing as he rushed to get dressed, tugging on the plaid flannel Sokka had been wearing last night, hoping that his stupidly comforting scent would stay on the collar. Sokka kept snoring behind him and Zuko found himself frozen in the doorway looking back at him. If he was even one percent less worried about his mother, he might have stayed. He might have asked for help or advice or something - but as it was, Zuko left quietly, heading towards the Caldera, towards his mother, towards home. 

\--

Knife to his heart, Zuko wouldn’t be able to tell anyone what happened that night. He knew that there was a scorched room from a fire he didn’t start, he knew he had bloodied knuckles and burns and deep cuts that would leave scars if he wasn’t careful, he knew that it ended with Hakoda putting Zhao in chains, his mother frantically looking him over to make sure he was okay, Katara healing the worst of his wounds, and Sokka--Sokka glaring at him with his arms crossed from across the room.

Once Ursa stepped away and Katara closed the deep cut on his arm, he couldn’t keep himself from going to Sokka. Zuko felt like he was walking to his death. He had just faced down eleven highly-trained firebending and nine higher-trained nonbending Loyalists  _ and  _ Ozai’s second-in-command, but Sokka’s angry stare is what made his heart jump to his throat.

Zuko came to a stop in front of him, nervous gold meeting worried? was Sokka worried? blue. “Hey,” he said, voice wavering.

Sokka’s jaw tightened, eyes hardening with a determination that made Zuko swallow. “I’m going to be  _ so pissed  _ if you don’t kiss me.”

Zuko did.

\--

“So--” Sokka said, making Zuko jump, looking away from his stack of documents and up at the phone leaning against the Official Fire Lord Wax Seal. He and Sokka had taken to Facetiming every night (and often every morning and every afternoon and after every practice and meeting and--) and Zuko found himself falling into a comfortable concentration, with Sokka keeping him company even from a distance.

Sokka didn’t look at the screen, opting to (fake) focus on the history textbook in front of him. Zuko squinted at him suspiciously, taking in Sokka’s feigned casualness and the blush creeping up his neck that he could see even over the camera. A surge of anxiety bit at him like a viper-rat, panicked thoughts of  _ fuck, this is it  _ and  _ he’s going to break up with me  _ and  _ wait, are we something that can be broken up?  _ but he forced his voice to stay steady and neutral. “So?”

Sokka ran a hand through his hair (he’d been leaving it loose after Zuko had mentioned he liked it down one time) and looked at the phone, stubborn? Determined?  _ Brave.  _ “So I was thinking. Caldera U has a really shitty hockey team. I bet I could whip them into shape.”

Zuko blinked, confused. That didn’t sound like the start of a break up but then again, this would be his first break up experience that didn’t involve him being exiled from the country without saying goodbye. “They do?”

Sokka nodded, eyes flicking over Zuko’s face. “Yeah, I think I could do it. They have a pretty good architecture program, too, I was looking into it today--”

Zuko furrowed his brow, the movement tugging slightly on his scar. “You were?”

“Well--yeah, I was looking into it last month, too, and maybe I already started working on an application--”

“Why?” Zuko interrupted, feeling like he had missed half the conversation.

Sokka gave him an affronted yowl, scooping his phone up so he could glare at him up close. His indignance didn’t quite cover up the nervousness behind his eyes. “So I can be closer to  _ you _ , idiot! Tui and La, it’s easy to forget you have a dumb boyfriend when he’s so hot--”

“I’m your boyfriend?” Zuko asked, butterfly-bees fluttering in his stomach as a blush rose to his face. “Wait--closer? Move? Here?”

Sokka laughed, running a self-conscious hand through his hair. “Listen--yeah. Yeah, I--uh. I need to know if you’re feeling good or bad cause I feel like I’m gonna throw up.”

“ _ Good  _ !” Zuko said with zero hesitation. “Are you joking? I might kill you if you are, I could get away with it--”

Sokka laughed, his grin growing as his confidence started to reinflate. “I’m not joking, man. Caldera was on my shortlist before we even met, they really do have a good arch engineering program and a bad hockey team. I was thinking about going to the community college here for gen eds but I’ve been talking to the college advisor and she thinks I have a for sure shot at some great scholarships and I don’t really want to live at home for another two years when I could  _ not  _ do that and I could be closer to my boyfriend at the same time and--” Sokka interrupted himself to give Zuko a hearty glare, pointing an accusatory finger at him over the screen. “And  _ yes,  _ you’re my boyfriend! I mean--as long as I’m yours. I’m yours, right?”

Zuko nodded quickly, pretending that his eyes weren’t stinging. “You’re--you’re my boyfriend.” He felt like his entire body was blushing. If he parted his robes, he was pretty sure his stomach would be red. “I mean--if I’m yours then you’re mine, right?"

Sokka nodded with an eager finality. “Yeah. Right. We’re boyfriends. No take backsies.”

“No take backsies,” Zuko agreed.

They made the silent, unanimous decision to be done with work for the night, with Zuko’s early meetings and Sokka’s even earlier school schedule in mind. They also had that in mind when they made the decision to watch one then five then ten episodes of Naruto as they pretended they weren’t falling asleep, looking at each other's faces in the corner of the screen as much as Sokka’s screen share. Zuko woke up with the sun and a disconnected call because Sokka always forgot to plug his phone in.

_ If it felt this good to wake up to that, how great would it feel to wake up to Sokka-his-boyfriend’s actual real-life face?  _ Zuko almost went pale with the thought but it was too delightful to leave behind, so it lingered in the back of his mind for the rest of the day, throughout his meetings with lords and generals and merchants and Agni knows who else, his daily sizeable stack of documents to carefully go through, and his lunch under the observant-so-suspicious eye of his loving mother. The thought stopped lingering and moved to the forefront of his mind that afternoon when he asked his primary assistant to reschedule everything tomorrow afternoon. She looked ready to beg him to reconsider - they both knew it would be a pain, but Zuko decided to take advantage of the fact that she was still new and hesitant to argue with him. He hoped she wouldn’t hold back so much in the future, he needed all the relevant input he could get. But needs must.

\--

While the Polar Wolf hockey games were not necessarily well-attended, they tended to be  _ loud _ . Between their raucous supporters and the sounds of sticks-pucks-skates on ice, the rink always felt packed. Sokka  _ loved  _ it, loved everything about it - the game, the cheers, the teammates, the smell (maybe not that one so much). It was so easy to lose himself in the best way when he was on the ice, and he was reminded that scoring was one of the best feelings in the world as he was swarmed by his team after a greasy goal at the start of the third period.

From one side of the celly, someone said, “Is that Lee?”

From the other side, someone said,“Wait, is Lee the Fire Lord?”

Spinning around with wide-eyes and a pounding heart, Sokka saw his squad of friends still going wild for his goal, Toph and Katara’s cheeks striped with the team colors, Aang waving a hand-drawn Go Polar Wolfs! sign, Suki on the ice smirking at him with warm eyes, and Zuko right in the middle - Sokka’s jersey over his silk robes.

Sokka felt like he could cry. He did, a little bit, but he’d never admit it. He skated out of the celly and threw himself against the glass right in front of him, hearing Zuko’s delighted laugh over the noise. He looked at Suki and the rest of the team with a dopey grin, pointing behind him. “That’s my fucking boyfriend!”

Sokka scored a hat trick and threw himself at Zuko each time. Suki scored a goal and did the same, Zuko laughing and pounding the glass with Toph in encouragement. Suki gave him a grin when they ended up on the bench beside each other, knocking his shoulder. “He’s a good one.”

Sokka watched as Zuko let Katara paint his unscarred cheek to match hers, feeling a joyous rush of family and love and  _ mine _ . “Yeah. I think I’ll keep him.”

\--

Sokka found an apartment close-ish to the university and not close enough to the palace for Zuko’s liking but Sokka refused to accept any assistance outside of his scholarship funds. It was obvious how much he loved the place, anyways - with a fireplace that looked almost like the one at home, windows that would let the sun in in the morning, just a short run to the practice rink, Sokka’s eyes had lit up with the excitement of adulthood and independence.

_ Besides _ , Sokka had said with a toothy grin,  _ now we can play a game called How Long Til All Of My Clothes End Up In Your Closet _ . Zuko had felt his soul soar from his body at that, and he had to kiss him to hide just how much he loved that thought. He thinks Sokka probably knew anyway.

\--

Zuko was sure they had spats or fights or annoying habits or whatever, all couples did - but he was hard pressed to think of them. Instead, he only thought of the way Sokka grabbed onto him like a pentapus at night, somehow making it impossible for Zuko to sleep comfortably without his weight settled over him. He thought of the cups of tea placed directly into his hand when he was absorbed in his work because Sokka knew it was the only way he’d remember to drink anything. He thought of how many times Sokka said “next year we’ll--” and “after we get married--” and “oh man, when we retire--” (something that made Zuko almost keel over from the sheer emotion of it all).

For all that he liked to complain, Sokka had very few things about Zuko that he would genuinely complain about to anyone  _ but  _ Zuko. He loved the way Zuko melted anytime he touched his hair. He loved how Zuko’s eyes lit up when he talked about new projects and loved how they brightened even more when Sokka offered up his own ideas. He loved Zuko’s sharp chin and sharp elbows and somehow-sharp  _ knees  _ that he allowed to be pinned down by a sleeping Sokka every single night. He loved how Zuko would bring him anything he thought Sokka would like with no expectation of anything back (not that Sokka would ever give him nothing) - books and scrolls and snacks and a small piece of fabric “because the color reminds me of you” and exaggerated doodles of nobles angry because Zuko denied their requests for state-funded vacations in favor of supplying food to a storm-hit village.

\--

Sokka was the one to propose. They were still flushed from Recent Activity and Sokka had kissed a lasting mark onto Zuko’s collarbone to make him laugh then to make him gasp. Zuko sat up and used one of Sokka’s ribbons to pull his hair into a messy bun and Sokka couldn’t keep it in any more, he knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life looking at this man the way he looked at him now and he wanted to make sure that would happen.

“Marry me,” he said, quiet and serious and warm. Zuko froze, hands still in his hair. Maybe a year ago or two or seven because they had been together for  _ seven years  _ Sokka would have felt anxious, like he had misread the situation or invented feelings where there were none. But he knew Zuko.

Zuko twisted after a long moment and looked at him with his beautiful golden eyes. Sokka could  _ tell  _ he was trying to be smooth but his voice came out too rough to make it work. “Was that a question?”

Sokka grinned and rolled onto his side, opening his nightstand drawer and rifling through it before pulling out his prize with an  _ aha! _ . He sat up with the betrothal necklace held delicately in his hands, finding himself suddenly nervous. He had painstakingly carved a dragon and a sea serpent on a whalebone pendant, meeting nose to nose at the top and tail to tail at the bottom. The deep purple silk it was attached to had been provided by Ursa when Sokka went to ask for Zuko’s hand but instead ended up in a spiraling rant about whether to use red or blue for the choker. That had been a solid two years ago, it had taken a long time to get everything just right - Sokka didn’t know how many rough sketches he had done before he actually started carving the pendant, and he had attempted the carving itself at least thrice as much. He kept them all, little tokens of his love for Zuko kept scattered in a drawer.

He was the plan guy, sure, but he also tended towards impulsivity. Somehow he managed to plan this for so long just to bring it to a head on a normal Tuesday night.

Zuko gave him a stern look, even as he was obviously trying to force himself to not smile. “That  _ wasn’t  _ a question, Sokka.”

Sokka rolled his eyes and looked at him - soft, quiet, warm, and honest to his core. “Marry me?”

Zuko couldn’t keep from smiling any longer and he didn’t bother to try to stop the tears from welling up. With a quick nod and a wet laugh, he launched himself at Sokka, hugging him tight. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

Later (much later), they fell asleep curled around one another; a red dragon with a blue ribbon in his hair and a blue sea serpent wrapped in a red silk sheet. Zuko woke with the sun and didn’t bother getting properly dressed, just pulled a soft yukata around his shoulders and found his assistant. She had successfully learned how to argue with him over the years and she was prepared to do just that when he asked her to clear his morning - but she saw the necklace around his neck, the relaxed look on his face, and the joy in his eyes, and gave him a curt nod. She cleared his afternoon, too. 

Zuko gave her a raise.

\--

They got married in the South Pole. Toph presided. They didn’t ask her to but they also didn’t ask anyone else. The wedding wasn’t necessarily  _ small _ , but it was smaller than the commotion they knew would come in the Fire Nation. Sokka and Zuko spent the night surrounded by all of their friends and family, drinking and eating and dancing and crying and making out in a closet like teenagers while Suki pretended that she wasn’t standing watch. 

The formal wedding was in the Fire Nation - a festivalesque celebration that promised a renewed era of peace and a future of fertility (Zuko assured a baffled Sokka that it was about agriculture. That didn’t stop Zuko’s heart from skipping a pleasant beat when Sokka muttered something about orphanages). Zuko watched his people ( _ their  _ people) celebrate while sitting stiffly on a platform in perfect formal Fire Nation wedding attire. Sokka had made some clever alterations to his own traditional Southern Water Tribe garb so he wasn’t dying of heat in an anorak. The sky was clear and Agni’s light fell on them all with a joyful heat Zuko thought he would feel in his soul for all eternity. Zuko watched Sokka grinning at the crowd, waving to children who managed to catch a glimpse of the platform and ignoring the low bows of their parents when they realized the new Fire Lord-by-marriage was looking back at them. 

Zuko thought about how he had nearly died on these very grounds, how he had been delivered into the safety of this stupid, beautiful idiot’s arms, how going to high school had  _ somehow  _ not been that bad - Zuko thought about how he would do it all over and over and over again just to see Sokka smile beside him.

Sokka caught his eye and grinned big, leaning over to knock shoulders with him and ignoring the sputtering of the Fire Sages who tried to bring as much propriety as they could to this event. Zuko thought Sokka was worth the world. Sokka looked at Zuko like he thought the same thing.


End file.
